


His Other Half

by Spiffing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 13:03:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21969754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiffing/pseuds/Spiffing
Summary: Harry Potter gives Severus Snape a proper funeral. Was it Harry or does one of the attendants look remarkably like Snape? AU.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had posted this awhile ago on Fanfiction.net in 2011. Decided to post this here as well.

Snape is dead. What was sad about that was that many people accepted the fact almost immediately. There were the few who weep about the romantic hero and some who wanted to jump on his grave. Harry, who hated the man since their eyes first met and vice versa, was one of those who couldn't quite form an opinion about the guy.

Somehow, Snape became lumped in with his parents, Sirius, Remus, Dobby and Hedwig as a touchy subject. Harry decided he understood the grumpy bitter man, of why he was the person he is and why he was particularly vicious against Harry. And Harry, being the compassionate guy, he is, didn't want to hear a single bad word against Snape, making absolutely sure to clear the man's name of most crimes done for Albus Dumbledore's unbreakable vow and have his painting hung up with the other Headmaster of Hogwarts. The guy's dead for crying out loud and he played a major role in ending the war but has been unappreciated since birth.

The painting of Snape didn't like the fact that there was still a part of him, an imprint that lingered in a world that he hated and hated him back but Harry was sure that he was somewhat humbled. Harry respected the guy enough to keep his memories secret, having revialed them and buried them with Snape and kept the details to himself. He even went as far as packing up Snape's possessions in both his quarters at Hogwarts and Spinners End, and kept some to take care of whenever he wasn't busy helping to rebuild the wizarding world or catching the remaining stray Death Eaters and Snatchers.

Harry admitted that he had forgotten Snape for a few hours after waking up from a long needed nap. But when he remembered he couldn't forgive himself for forgetting the man. He went on to call Snape the bravest man he has ever known and didn't think anything different since.

And all of this happened in merely three days since the fall of Voldemort, Tom Riddle. Harry Potter, having cut through the mess, debris and unstable economy of the wizarding world at rest of an aftermath of war single handily, was that boss. And it was all for Snape.

There were so many deaths. They all died because of Harry. Harry couldn't help feeling that it was all his fa---.

If Harry had never been born and if Voldemort, a person Harry would have thought was a logical man, hadn't believed in feeble prophecies, maybe the deaths could have been prevented. If Dumbledore had told Harry everything at the end of first year when Harry asked, maybe many more things could ha---.

Anyway. It was then Harry went about his business, focusing on those around him and those who are still alive and those who are grieving or rest and respecting the dead, the innocents, the fighters and even the wrong doers. He might have given a little nudge of good in the outcome of Draco and his mother's trial; both of them were able to avoid Azkaban, unfortunately not Lucius. Azkaban is now a Dementor-free place; Kingsley made sure of that with Azkaban, having become the new and well liked Minister of Magic. And Kingsley did a whole lot more than just that, making many wonder why they hadn't elected the bloke in the first place.

It was now a week after the Horcrux in Harry was destroyed. He couldn't forget about Snape and made sure those around him wouldn't forget. It was going to be a depressing few weeks, with funerals being serviced back to back. Snape was among one of them. So was Fred. And Remus. And Tonks. And Colin. And MadEye. And Crabbe. And Burbage. And---.

Although there were a few Aurors watching, waiting in case there were any funeral crashers, they almost seemed disillusioned. It was no surprise that out of all the funerals Harry attended Snape's held the least number of attendees even though Harry hosted it. Yet to Harry's puzzlement there were a few that Harry didn't recognise and he would observe them at small intervals of time, wondering about their views of Snape or if they ever met Snape before. Harry frowned though when a small gaggle of women tried to open the coffin's lid to slip in some roses and cards in the shape of love hearts. They were immediately escorted off the premises.

Harry chose the cemetery in Godric Hollows. He wasn't sure why exactly but he thought it was fitting. Snape died a brave and loyal man and here he rests close by to the person he lived for when he had nothing to live for himself.

When the coffin containing Snape was lowered into the ground, after Harry said his bit about Snape, how he was never appreciated and had died an unsung hero, many of the people that did come left. Hermione and Ron lingered a little while longer but they too left after Harry urged them that he needed more time alone. That's what he liked about his two best friends; they respected his privacy when he needed it, to think, to breathe and they made sure he was alright, and talked and wasn't alone when he merely wanted privacy but felt absolutely hollow and isolated. They cared about him just as much as he cared about them and he couldn't have asked for better friends than them, even with their flaws. They liked him for who he is, not what he is. And he loves every piece of them just the same.

McGonagall stayed a bit longer. Harry respected her since probably day one. She's such a strong, stern, brave yet compassionate person. He could understand that she wanted some sort of closure and not just from speaking to Snape's painting. He felt like he wanted a bit of that too. Harry found Snape fascinating and complex. A determined, isolated man with a goal in mind with little possessions but with much needed understanding and acceptance from others and himself.

She then turned. She gave a small, sad but at ease smile and Harry returned hers with his own smile before she walked off towards the exit. As Harry's vision constantly moved in line with her departing figure, his eyes caught on another figure that was further away in the distance behind the large oak tree. Harry felt his heart skip and his brain freeze. He couldn't believe his eyes. The same tall, lanky figure, dressed in black but Muggle-styled clothing with black hair almost reaching the shoulders.

_No,_ Harry thought to himself, _my mind is acting up again. Need more sleep?_

Harry rapidly blinked and rubbed his eyes behind his round glasses. The man was still there but then after a moment where neither of them moved, the man abruptly turned on his heel and, to Harry's bewilderment, the tails of the man's long black trench coat billowed behind him in his wake.

_I'll see you later,_ Harry thought to Snape and his parents, as well as a promise that he will see them again soon, before he rushed off up the hill to catch up to the man. Harry wasn't sure what he was doing chasing after a stranger but his instincts told him that the stranger was, well, _strange_ and usually Harry's intuition was right about things. Harry could berate himself for having not notice the stranger before but then he was focused on the crowd near him and, of course, Snape.

Over the hill, Harry saw the man was still there, still walking in a leisurely yet purposeful pace, as though he was anticipating that Harry followed him. Something was up. Harry's mind, still hoarding more than a year's worth of alertness and battle, came to the awful yet probably logical conclusion that this could be a trap. But then, as Harry skidded to a stop at the west side gate which was also where the man walked through just a moment ago, the man himself was now walking towards the only car in the parking lot.

Harry scrutinised as the man get out the car key from his pocket and pressed a button on it, followed by the recognisable click of the doors automatically unlocking. The man didn't look all that awkward about moving towards and around the car either. This man behaved like he dressed; a Muggle. Yet the man looked exactly like... The man turned, and stopped short on Harry. Their eyes met, black locked with green, and Harry couldn't breathe. It was like seeing a ghost. This man looked exactly like Snape. From the posture, right down to the nose. The man didn't move to grab a wand or any weapon. He stood there, staring back at Harry with no recognition in his eyes with the driver's door of the car open.

The man's furrowed eyebrows in a un-Snapelike expression that showed puzzlement.

"May I help you?" the man drawled, sounding impatient yet curiousness.

Harry could help but allow his jaw to fall. That voice that Harry had grown accustomed to... The similarities seemed to be never ending. Harry felt almost light headed. But Harry stayed grounded and tried to make some sense into this situation. But this man was completely wrong. This man looked less stern and bitter, his eyes didn't represent neverending tunnels, there were fewer lines on his face, his casual yet proper dress sense although simple had taste, and his hair was out of his face and was remarkably clean. This man didn't feel confronting, in fact he paled against Snape's dour and forbidding demeanour. Though the man wasn't any less difficult to confront and speak to, what with the thoughts running through Harry's current confused mind. This man made him nervous just as much as Snape had. Was it the stance? Was it those eyes that just seem to go right through him even though he could tell the other person wasn't employing Legilimency? Was it from Harry comparing too much? No, Harry was still trying to discriminate and make sense of the situation. The situation at the moment was surreal.

"Snape?" Harry ventured, his voice coming out hoarse.

The man didn't say anything at first. He watched Harry a moment longer, his face almost as blank as Harry remembered Snape having been able to place.

The man smirked.

"Not the one you knew of," the man eventually said, his head tipped to one side. His eyes glanced up the hill before back at Harry, his head giving a small nod, "Though I do appreciate what you have done for him."

That didn't make any sense to Harry. In fact, it only caused more questions to form.

"No problem. But what do you mean 'not the one I know of'?" Harry asked boldly.

The man made no move or indication that he would answer.

"Has anybody told you that you look like Snape?" Harry followed.

"Not to my knowledge, no," the Snape lookalike said calmly in a matter of fact manner, "You'd be the first."

"Who are you?" Harry questioned, probably sounding impudent, frowning at this man infront of him.

"I could ask you the same question," the man countered fluidly. The man quickly changed the subject then, "I must take my leave now. I have better things to do than involve myself in idle chatter any longer than necessary; no less to a stranger of nil significance."

"Why d'you come then?" Harry pressed hauntingly, almost a growl of annoyance at the vagueness of the man's answers.

The man raised an eyebrow. "My, my. Not very bright, are you?"

Harry bristled slightly at the tone, a tone he remembered quite vividly of Snape using against Harry when he insulted him and his father, James. But then he thought about it and realised that even though Snape lived alone he must have had family other than the obvious type. Harry felt almost guilty for not having thought of attempting to find any and informed them. But Harry refused to feel like that, to allow this man in his condescending glory to make him feel horrible. He did what he could. So this man was Snape's cousin? No, the man looked too familiar... Twin brother..? But Harry didn't recall in Snape's memories of a twi---.

"And the pin finally... drops," the man said effortlessly, that agonisingly exact dramatic pause Snape always did.

Harry threw in accusingly, "Snape never mentioned you."

A silver of a sneer appeared on the man's face as he scorned, "Why would he need to speak about his private life, and more so to you? Who do you think you are?"

Harry glared, rebuffing strongly, "I asked you first."

To Harry's surprise the man back down and replied in a tone that suggested that the answer was obvious, "As I had indicated before, perhaps your feeble mind failed to pick up on, I am Snape though am not the one you knew of."

Harry scoffed. The man raised that eyebrow again in a challenge. The information didn't want to click, not with the evidence that countered the words just spoken having stared right infront of him. Harry shook his head in disbelief.

"You're wrong," Harry declared strongly and added with good measure, " _Impostor_."

The man didn't look fazed. In fact, he looked amused and it pissed Harry off.

"Is that so?" the man said coolly, his intonation was flat and held doubtful knowing. "Are you completely certain? I for one am quite certain of who I am."

Harry grind his teeth together and refused absolutely to allow this man mess with him and especially on this day of Snape's funeral. The man had the nerve to stand here and claim that he is Severus Snape when Harry fully knew that Severus Snape was dead, died right before his eyes and remained so when Harry had returned to the Shrieking Shack, and was currently buried six feet under.

The man gave a dismissive look towards Harry and swiftly slid into his car, closed the door, started the engine and opened the side window. He gave a coruscate glance at Harry from the corner of his eye.

"I believe that concludes our conversation," the Impostor said smoothly and then added sarcastically with scorn, "It was a... _pleasure_ to finally meet you, Mr Potter."

And then, without another word or waiting for Harry's reply, the man drove off and Harry merely watched as the car disappeared from view. Harry suddenly felt drained and wanted to kick at himself for acting in such a way. The man was so familiar that Harry had allowed the man to get under his skin so easily without willing to. Harry knew he should have kept his irritation and temper in control, especially on a day like this. But he didn't think much about that, not with the thought of Snape being alive in the fore front of his mind. How's that even possible? The man must be lying, playing with his head. This man must have been poly juiced or something.

Try as Harry might to forget the incident, he couldn't. It was bizarre, strange and questionable. He wanted to know more. He wanted to get his head around the situation. It's probably so simple that he's just merely over complicating things. He didn't tell anyone, not even Ron or Hermione. He decided to do some investigating himself.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a week since Snape's funeral.

While Harry didn't do much with his time but help rebuild structures and using the opportunity to put magic in practice and learn runes with Hermione and helping the Department of Law Enforcement in a few missions with Ron, Harry investigated the 'Impostor' matter. Currently he couldn't find any leads. Hell, he didn't have any head start except for theories.

At Harry's Muggle suburban home, he checked, many times, in the basement where he put Snape's, Sirius's and Harry's other stuff and looked through Snape's things for some clues but as far as he could tell, there was nothing suspicious and definitely nothing about Snape having a twin brother.

He could tell that Hermione more so than Ron was starting to worry over him. He didn't want to worry or bother them with something that probably wouldn't return to bother him later in life but he was beginning to warm to the idea of sharing the incident to Hermione and Ron to see if they have any ideas. As the saying went, two heads are better than one. Maybe having another set of people would give another perspective to the situation.

So, the next time they met up, which was at the Burrow, he pulled them to the side after a family dinner and told them. Hermione looked sceptical and was thinking deeply while Ron looked like he didn't know what to make of the situation.

"Muggle you said?" Hermione said, looking dubious, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Positive," Harry confirmed, rubbing his sweaty hands together in hopes to stop it from sweating.

"Did you take notice of the number plates on his car?" Hermione questioned.

Harry frowned and then shook his head. "No."

"Could use a pensive right about now," Ron said absently, munching on a large round chocolate chip cookie.

Hermione brightened suddenly, smiling at Ron. "Of course. That's a good idea. Why don't we?"

"How are we going to get hold of one?" Harry asked, knowing that they were rare and expensive and almost inaccessible without a permit or something.

"Doesn't Hogwarts have one?" Hermione said, looking at Harry pointedly.

At the mention of Hogwarts with the topic at hand, Harry was reminded of the times he had viewed memories with Dumbledore as well as looking at Snape's own memories without the man's permission.

"We could ask Professor McGonagall first thing tomorrow morning," Hermione said decisively.

"Yeah. Pretty sure McGonagall wouldn't mind lending it to us for a few hours," Ron said smugly, "Considering what we've done for the wizarding world and Hermione being one of McGonagall's best favourites."

Hermione blushed slightly and the new young couple shared smiles. Harry looked away, feeling that the moment between his friends was too personal for him to intervene.

After a moment, Harry asked, uncertainly, "So you're both really going to help me figure this out?"

"I admit, it's a bit far fetched," Hermione said, pushing her bushy brown hair back over her shoulders, "And it seems to me this person may have tried to trick you but as for the motive, it's questionable. I think it's something worth looking into."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "If he really is Snape, Merlin knows how... then bloody hell. I'll be wondering how, why, when and all of that. I'm pretty sure like you guys and the rest that Snape's body was in that coffin. The man's a hero and people would be throwing themselves at him, ugly greasy git or not; don't know why he's hiding."

Harry grimaced, having experienced that sort of 'worship' and had a fair idea of what kind of person Snape is. Snape really seemed the type that once he's done what his done, he'd move on and would live a quiet life away from people in general. Snape seemed like he didn't like being around people except for Dumbledore and McGonagall, especially children. Snape would probably like conversing with people who are academic, intelligent and held class; people of minds like his own, where he could have competition and belonging.

"Yeah, Ron," Harry said, not able to imagine Snape basketing fame that way, "I don't think Snape appreciates that sort of attention."

Hermione looked to be in agreement with Harry's point.

"Yeeeah, I know what you mean. It'll be funny to watch though," Ron said, shrugging.

Hermione had owled McGonagall that night and McGonagall had owled back soon after with her approval. And so the next day, the three of them met up at Harry's home and apparated to Hogsmeade and trekked up to the school's gates where Hagrid met them. They talked about the rebuilding of Hogwarts with Hagrid until they came to the oak doors and Harry could see that efforts have really moved along since most rubble was cleared and some buildings that were destroyed were replaced by new but relatively similar structures.

"Dumbledore," Harry said once they were at the gargoyles protecting the headmistress's office.

They moved to the side and the staircase revealed itself. Harry went first followed by Hermione and Ron. The office door was opened and Headmistress McGonagall seemed to be waiting, leaning against the oak desk.

"Good morning Headmistress," Hermione said, smiling brightly.

"Hi professor," Ron said in a courteous manner.

"Professor," Harry greeted respectfully with a nod.

"Please, call me Minerva," McGonagall said, waving her hand.

"Er, right, Minerva," Harry said, the name feeling strange on his tongue and he felt like he was being impolite by calling his professor by first name.

Looking at Hermione and Ron, it seemed he wasn't the only one.

"No time to delay I suppose? It's all yours," Minerva said, indicating to the stone basin, "If you need me, I'll be in the library. Many new books to replace the old would be in order. And if you three do happen to stay for the whole day, in terms of meals, you may call on Dobby."

"Thank you, Pro-- Minerva," Hermione said gratefully.

Minerva smiled a tiny bit before she left the room and down the stone stairs, the door swinging closed behind her. The three looked at each other.

"Right," Harry said, getting his wand out.

But then Harry didn't move. He wasn't sure how to extract memories. He had seen it done many times by others but he had never done it himself.

"Think of the thought, tap your wand on your head and pull away," Hermione instructed, "You have to concentrate, remember what had happened clearly."

Harry nodded, thankful that Hermione knew how to do it and he did as Hermione said. It was more difficult than Harry had thought it would be. But then he managed to get the strand and he flicked it into the basin. It swirled in the silvery cloud-like liquid or gas in the Pensieve. He put his wand back in his pocket and turned to his friends.

"Ready?" Harry asked.

Ron said quietly, "Ready when you are mate."

Hermione merely nodded. Harry held Hermione's hand and Hermione held Ron's.

"Right. Here goes nothing," Harry said, closing his eyes and plunging his head into the memory.

It was as Harry remembered it. He watched the funeral service ending at a different perspective, with Hermione and Ron by his side, and turned his attention away, looking for the Imposter. He found him where he expected him to be, hiding behind the tree and watching them quietly. Harry pointed at the man, nudging his friends.

"Look. There he is."

They turned and spotted him instantly. They watched the man for a moment.

"Let's take a closer look," Hermione suggested.

They moved quickly, following Memory-Harry who was now running down the hill. The feeling of seeing himself felt surreal in itself.

They were close enough, walking past Memory-Harry and towards the man in the parking lot. The man in the memory of course didn't take notice of them, his eyes fixed on MemoryHarry. Ron commented how weird the experience was until he swore, halting to a stop. Ron's eyes wide and fixed on the Impostor.

"He looks just like him," Ron muttered.

"The similarities are uncanny," Hermione agreed.

"So I'm not imagining this, right?" Harry wanted to make sure that his eyes weren't deceiving him.

"This memory is too solid to be a dream or made up," Hermione said reasonably.

She suddenly sniffed the air. Ron and Harry looked at her in concern and confusion.

"Hermione?"

"I can't smell any Polyjuice on him," Hermione murmured, "And as far as I can tell, there's no glamour on him. But then again, some people can perform effortless and precise magic that would almost seem natural."

"So it's him?" Harry asked, feeling his stomach drop.

None of them said anything for a moment and simply watched and took notice of their surroundings.

"You really shouldn't have lost your temper, Harry."

"I know. I know." Harry muttered.

As the memory ended at the Impostor driving away, the three found themselves still standing in the Hogwart's Head office and day light still shining outside. They were quiet for a moment. Harry let them think about it and got his wand out to get the memory back and return it to his mind. His mind seemed to freeze for a moment as the memory shifted back into its original domain before it relaxed.

"So. What do you guys think?" Harry asked.

"I cannot say one hundred percent sure," Hermione said lightly, her eyes had a faraway feel to them, "He seems... different but I don't know how. But from the looks of it, it's him..."

Hermione rubbed her cheek and gave a soft sigh that said 'honestly no idea' towards the memory.

"Bloody hell," Ron groaned, "What does this mean then? That Snape's really alive?"

Harry shook his head. It wasn't possible. He saw Snape die in front of his eyes. He buried Snape's body in a proper funeral. It was impossible that the same Severus Snape, Death Eater, Potions Master, former Headmaster and Head of Slytherin, was alive. This man didn't seem right.

"Is it possible that this is Snape's twin?" Hermione asked, "They look like the same age of each other."

"I was thinking that too but the guy said he was Snape as well," Harry said, beginning to feel frustrated at the lack of information from the memories, "Just not the same one I knew of."

"You don't think that he might be a... clone, right?" Ron asked, sounding like he was voicing something he'd rather not think of at all.

"That seems a bit far fetched..." Hermione said, frowning at Ron but seemed thoughtful.

"But it's an idea, isn't it?" Ron grouchily, crossing his arms. "Yes, yes it is but--."

"Wait a moment," Ron interrupted, "Maybe they were twins and got... separated at birth or something."

"That sounds probable," Hermione said approvingly, "Probably why you had never found any evidence that Snape had any other family, Harry."

"Brother or not, he was trying to mess with my head," Harry muttered strongly, "I know it. There's no way that he could be Severus Snape."

"We won't know for sure," Hermione said, "He didn't exactly say that he was Severus Snape, just that he was Snape. Anyway, I took notice of his number plates on his car. I'll try and access the Muggle motor registration data base. I would be able to collect some information on him, if the car wasn't stolen."

"Right," Harry said, running his hand through his hair, "Right," he repeated, "You do that."

"Very well then," Hermione said, watching Harry carefully, "For the mean time we could."

But then a voice cut through her words and startled the three of them.

"Perhaps I could be of help?"

They swerved around and found themselves staring at Dumbledore whose eyes, even in a painting, twinkled mysteriously. Harry wasn't sure if he could trust the old man after the things he had done, the information that old man kept from him. Hermione and Ron didn't say anything, waiting for Harry to speak in case they said something Harry wouldn't want Dumbledore knowing.

"I-It's about Professor Snape," Harry finally said.

And then his eyes darted to the empty frame next to Dumbledore's, a frame that belonged to Snape.

"Where's Snape?" Harry asked immediately, suddenly remembering that he had commissioned Snape's painting and could have asked him for answers.

Dumbledore glanced out his painting to the empty frame beside him.

"He left his frame I see," Dumbledore concluded cheerfully, "Well it is quite serene to remain in one frame in the one seat, day after day, with nothing to occupy time with. I would presume that our dear Severus has travelled to the library in search for some reading material to entertain himself."

Harry and Ron looked clueless. People in paintings can go to the library?

"Of course," Hermione said, looking as though a light bulb flashed on above her head, "People in paintings have the ability to travel from picture to picture. Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore inclined his head.

"Let's go," Hermione said quickly, pulling the two boys towards the exit. "Where are we going?" Ron moaned.

"The library of course."

"What do we have to do in the library?"

"Well, didn't you hear a word Dumbledore had said? Professor Snape's in the library."

"That doesn't make any sense," Harry said. "You mean there's a painting in the library of a library?"

"Of course there is," Hermione said, "I never realised that impressions from other paintings could access it, what with it being empty all the time."

They came to a stop outside the library doors which they could see Madame Pince and Minerva talking to each other at Madame Pince's desk. The usually neat library was completely trashed and the roof was missing. Minerva noticed them and the conversation was paused for a moment.

"Did you need something?" Minerva asked the three of them.

"We just wanted to look at the painting in here is all," Hermione asked.

Minerva looked bemused but nodded her consent and returned to speaking with Pince who was eyeing the three of them with suspicion.

Almost immediately Harry spotted the painting and he wondered why he had never seen it before until now. And there, in the painting, sitting on a leather sofa with shelves of books behind him in many rows was Severus Snape.

"Professor Snape?" Hermione asked tentatively.

Snape didn't look up, his eyes were staring down at the page before him, reading the words as though they were the most fascinating things in the world and he could just sink into it.

"Professor," Hermione tried again.

Snape's head snapped up at an alarming rate and his eyes betrayed surprise before it clouded with annoyance and loathing. This was the Snape Harry knew.

"Potter. Granger. Weasley," Snape snapped, "What are you three doing here?"

"We wanted to ask you a few questions."

Snape's eyes narrowed in suspicion in almost the same way as Pince had but Snape's was much more severe.

"Go on," Snape reluctantly permitted, his voice low and dangerous.

"Well, it was just that, at your funeral," Hermione began bravely and Snape's eyes turned murderous at the words 'funeral' and immediately shot an accusing glare at Harry, "There was a man who has the same physical description as you who had watched the proceedings from a distance. Harry approached the man after the service and the two of them was involved in a short conversation. The man didn't speak much but gave the impression that he knew you, in fact claiming that he is you, just not the one we knew. We were wondering if you know anything about this man."

Snape stared at them, his eyes still held strong dislike and a hint of scorn. They, along with the rest of his body language, gave nothing away. But Harry thought for sure there was a tenseness in Snape's shoulders though maybe Snape was always tense around the shoulders. And the long silence Snape was giving them was something Harry thought was worth taking note of. At Snape's initial bewilderment in his response, perhaps not...

"What is this nonsense? I know nothing of this person you speak of," Snape said coldly, "I have no intention of playing your games either. Find someone else to entertain your postwar paranoia."

He stood up swiftly, snapping his book shut.

"If that is all, which I will presume it is, I would like to return to my long deserved peace before I was rudely interrupted," Snape said cuttingly and then said curtly, "Good day."

Before Harry, Hermione and Ron could put in another word Snape strode out of the painting and disappeared off to another painting they had no clue as to where it was.

Either Snape was lying or he was saying the truth. With Snape, it was hard to tell. But if Snape's lying... No. If Snape was telling the truth, which was what Harry was betting on, the Impostor must have been playing with Harry's head. But why? Who was he? What did he want? Harry wanted answers and he wanted them now.

"I'll look into the data bases as soon as I can," Hermione said decisively, watching Harry's face carefully once more.

"Yeah. But we should go eat something first. I'm starving." Ron said, rubbing his stomach.

"Honestly Ronald," Hermione sighed in exasperation.

While Ron talked about food, Hermione began talking about House Elf rights, Harry was beside himself, still thinking about Snape and how he knew nothing of having a brother or anything about the Impostor.


	3. Chapter 3

It was only a few days later that Hermione fire called Harry, informing him of her find. She seemed anxious and looked like she hadn't slept for days. Once again, Harry, Hermione and Ron found themselves at Harry's Muggle home but this time they sat around the coffee table in his lounge room, getting comfortable with tea, coffee, muffins and biscuits. 

"You should really decorate the place, Harry. It's far too empty," Hermione said, yawning. She blinked a few times. "Maybe a bookshelf over there..." 

"I like it the way it is." Harry said, unable to help that he sounded defensive. "It's simple."

"Right you are, mate. Less cleaning," Ron agreed, grinning. 

Hermione looked at Ron with a frown but decided not to argue. 

"Hermione, did you get any sleep at all?" Harry asked, surprised his intelligent friend would stay up all hours just to find information on a possible future suspicious person. 

"Never mind that now," Hermione said dismissively which only caused Harry to worry more. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I hadn't slept for approximately forty-eight hours. It's not like I haven't stayed up longer before. Anyway. It took me hours to understand how to break into the data base since Muggle technology has advanced and much harder to break. Thankfully I've been code breaking since primary school and it became much more easier with the additional years of Arithmanc---." 

"Which is your favourite subject," Ron interrupted, amused and slightly exasperated. "We know, Hermione. You're brilliant and we love you but we know." 

Hermione grumbled something that sounded like not appreciating numbers and mathematics. She turned away from Ron to face Harry. 

"I don't know how to say this Harry... Maybe it's better if you take a look at these." 

From her folder, Hermione took out two A4 sheets of paper and handed it to Harry; registration papers for the car and drivers licence notice. Ron stared at the papers, marvelling how smooth it looked and wondered how Muggles were able to make parchment so white and flat. But Harry was more focused on the words on the papers in his hands. He felt himself growing tense and his eyes go red. 

"Are these real?" Harry asked Hermione, perhaps a bit too roughly because Hermione gave Harry a warning look. 

"Yes. They are," Hermione said snootily, "That's why I had checked other sources of information." 

She took out other pieces of paper and they confirmed the first two pieces. They were passport documents, university receipts, travel history. Ron took a look at the ones Harry already looked at. His eyebrows rose up to his hair line. 

"Doctor Simon Snape," Hermione read, "Date of birth: ninth of January, nineteen sixty. Male. Caucasian. Current residence in Tutshill, Gloucestershire, England. He's a science lecturer at the University of Exeter, Devon. He's recently returned from a visit to the States..." Hermione's eyebrows furrowed, "Something about Apple Computer Inc." 

"Snape? Computers?" Harry asked incredulously, knowing full well what Apple was and how utterly crap they were a few years ago. 

"That Muggle university is pretty close to my house... But what's 'Apple'?" Ron said, looking lost, "And scenence?" 

And Hermione explained to Ron about Apple and why Muggles have such electronics and computers as well as the fields in science. Ron understood some of it but it was obvious he didn't understand why the Muggles had to do it. Harry came to another piece of paper. A marriage certificate. 

"He's married..." Harry said, his voice sounding far away. 

Ron turned to Harry sharply. 

"Snape was married?" Ron asked incredulously. 

"According to this, yeah... to Doctor Charity Burbage," Harry read, frowning. 

The name was familiar but Harry couldn't remember exactly.

"Wait. Isn't that...?" Ron cut himself off and turned to Hermione, "Who was that?" 

Hermione looked sad. "She was the Muggle Studies professor. She was reported dead in an issue of the Daily Prophet before the Death Eaters took over the Ministry and then she was simply reported missing, having resigned her post." 

"But she's dead. Doesn't he know that? He was a Death Eater, right?" Ron paused. "Er... wait, our Snape was a Death Eater... right..." 

"Presumably dead. Her body hasn't been found and nobody has given evidence that she is deceased," Hermione corrected and then sighed, "Maybe she isn't... Maybe she is hiding..." 

Harry sighed, dropping the papers. "This doesn't make any sense. Simon Snape? Is there a birth certificate?" 

"No. I couldn't access those," Hermione said regrettably, looking awkward as she said this. "They had an extra level of encryption that I've never seen before and looks like it was recently introduced. Online security along with advancement in technology is strengthening after all." 

"It's alright," Harry said, smiling. "You did brilliantly, Hermione. As always." 

"We should confront him," Ron suggested, "Force some information out of him." 

"Hold on," Hermione said, holding out a hand as a stop. "Before we act on that, we need to think of what we would ask if we do speak to him as well as what answers he may give and how we would react. We don't know if he is Professor Snape's twin or someone pretending to be related to him. We don't even know if he is who he says he is. We don't know if he's dangerous either. He has a very clean record but not knowing anything, we would have to be careful because we don't know what he's capable of ---." 

"Hermione, since when have our plans gone according to plan?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Hermione looked frustrated at being interrupted. 

"What I was trying to say is, with this evidence," Hermione held up a few of the sheets as a point. "I still think he could be Professor Snape's twin brother and not an impostor at all. I think we should just... leave the man alone. He hasn't done anything wrong. He's probably grieving." 

Harry ended up driving the three of them to the university. It was a chance for Ron to experience what it was like driving in a real car, rather than a modified one and Ron's opinions were better not heard by the Muggles because there was no appreciation what so ever. Thankfully the windows were up. 

By the time they arrived in the visitor's parking lot, it was late afternoon. According to the time tables Hermione printed off, the Impostor finishes his last lecture at around eight at night. Hermione, time table in hand, became the group's navigator. After a while, they came to a large building. Entering it they came to a foyer with more doors that said 'lecture in session'. 

"It should be him lecturing at the moment," Hermione said quietly, "Let's go inside and watch." 

In agreement, the trio opened the door. There were rows and rows of chairs with those desks and they went up in steps. Harry felt a few people turn to look at them but he quickly followed Hermione's lead as she moved up the stairs and got in to the top row, the furthest away from the main floor. They sat down and the stares disappeared and returned to the person in front. 

There was a projector up showing a screen with a diagram and words and the man, the Impostor, who looked like he did the other day except in earth colours, who was talking through a microphone in the same low, bored and smooth way Snape would about whatever he was talking about. Harry only caught a few words such as 'bonds' and 'electrons' and 'oxidation' and 'enzymes' but that was it. 

Harry watched the man and couldn't get out of his head that he was watching Snape doing one of his Potion speeches. Harry tried to stay glaring and keep his face impassive but it was almost impossible because it kept slacking and he felt his jaw simply wanted to drop and just wanted to sleep through the boring talk. The only thing that kept him from falling asleep was when the Impostor, while gazing lazily across his audience, his expressive black eyes would meet Harry's for a moment in curiosity or annoyance and held before moving on. It kind of freaked Harry out. 

"...Readings, as specified on your unit outline plan is the main Anderton text, chapters three and four," the Impostor said, his tone serious, "Have them read by next week's tutorial for you will be tested related to the two chapters. The only way to benefit from your tutorials is by studying beforehand otherwise you might as well not go. Now, that concludes today. See you all next week." 

The university students in the room began moving and the sound in the room rose with chatter, things moving and people walking down the steps. Harry stood up but Hermione pulled him back down and waited. The Impostor packed his things methodically, closed the projector but paused from leaving the room with his brief case when a student went up to him and asked him a question. 

"Come on," Hermione said, when the crowd began thinning out. 

Together they got out of their seats and went down. Just as they came down from the last step, the student nodded a few times and left. The student gave a curious glance at Hermione, Harry and Ron but didn't say anything and quickly left, meeting her friends who were waiting outside. 

The Impostor slowly turned to look at Hermione and Ron in turn and looked at Harry last. 

"This is certainly a surprise. What are you doing here Mr Potter?" 

"To ask you a few questions, sir," Harry said. The man raised an eyebrow. 

"Aren't you going to introduce your friends to me, Mr Potter?" 

Harry didn't answer but Hermione did, smiled a little and held out her hand. 

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said politely, "And this is Ron Weasley." 

To their surprise, the man who looked almost exactly like Snape shook her hand once. Harry noticed the thin gold band wedding ring on the man's ring figure. 

"Pleasure to meet you both," the man said courteously and then shook Ron's hand too. 

Harry couldn't help feeling betrayed. 

The Impostor checked his wrist where an ordinary wrist watch was. 

"Perhaps we should take this somewhere else," he said, looking up, "There's a cafe on campus. It's not far from here." 

"That sounds like a good idea," Hermione said kindly. 

"Lead the way," Ron said, nodding. 

"Very well," the Impostor said, inclining his head. 

A moment later after Hermione ordered the three of them drinks and the Impostor ordered his own, they sat down at a square table with four seats in a secluded corner of the cafe. Harry felt weary, remembering the last time they had went to a Muggle cafe last year, so he made sure he sat where he could see the front entrance of the place. 

"I believe the three of you have questions for me to answer?" the Impostor reminded, lifting the cup to his lips and sipped quietly. "Depending on the question, I may or may not answer."

Hermione, Ron and Harry exchanged glances. Harry realised that Hermione was right when she said they should have organised because Harry had no idea what to ask except the obvious. 

"Who are you?" 

The man gave an exasperated sigh and looked at Harry with a 'are you kidding' look. 

"I believe we have been through this before, Mr Potter." 

"Well, you were all vague and stuff. This time, I want a straight answer." 

"Oh? And why should I answer to you, Mr Potter?" the man asked, his voice lowered so Harry had to lean in a little. The man was staring straight at Harry in that un-fathomed way Snape would have stared which made Harry shift in his seat and want to lean back away, "As far as I know, neither of you are police officers and this is merely a conversation between strangers, strangers who are rudely pivoting into my life, strangers who have no right to pry on the basis that they think they could because they possess magic and I don't. Other than knowing your names, I have no clue as to who either of you are. And before you say it; suspicion is not an answer I am willing to accept because I have done nothing wrong and I do not play curiosity when it comes down to my private life." 

"Sir, please, we know about human rights, we respect them and we hadn't intended to seem as though wizarding kind is superior or anything. I was born from a Muggle family and I know the injustice Muggles face when it comes to two worlds colliding over an issue both parties have. We just need some answers," Hermione said softly, pleading, "Our Professor Snape, he died a loyal and brave man and died knowing only our hate and lack of appreciation for his extensive and secret involvement in ending the Wizarding War and preventing the rein of Lord Voldemort from ceasing all of Wizarding Britain--." 

"Feeling guilty, do you?" the Impostor sneered, but his eyes had snapped onto Harry, his eyes now boring into him, "Blamed him for things he regretted or were planned by your leader, Dumbledore? Didn't trust him when everyone and you included were told by Dumbledore to do so because he does? Never took the time to think and simply took everything for face value, hmm? You called him a coward, didn't you, you ungrateful--." 

"Snape was the bravest man I have ever known!" Harry shouted strongly. 

The cafe fell awfully silent. Harry only realised he was standing and had knocked down the chair he had sat on in the process then when he looked around him and at the eyes which were darting from Harry to the impostor and back again. One of the coffee employees came up to them, "Everything alright here, Simon?" 

"Yes, Lionel. Everything's fine," the Impostor said, giving an apologetic smile, "All under control." 

Harry started. It looked weird to see Snape's face smile. Harry missed the strange looks he was receiving as the cafe slowly went back to normal and Ron pulled him back down on the now standing chair. 

The Impostor regarded Harry again with that cool expression. "I see." 

He took another sip from his black coffee and didn't say anything else. 

"Doctor Snape... You must understand," Hermione began again gently, "seeing someone who looks exactly like Professor Snape and behaves almost the same, we couldn't help hoping---." 

He placed the cup back at five o'clock on its saucer immediately. 

"He's dead," the Impostor said flatly in finality, but there was a hint of... sadness? in his tone. "You saw him. You buried him. He's dead. End of story." 

Ron then said, "But, then, are you--?" 

"Yes, yes, he was family," the Impostor said impatiently.

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances as Hermione said, "That's all we needed to know. Thank you, doctor. And... we're... sorry... we didn't send you a--." 

The Impostor waved a dismissive hand but didn't talk. He simply took up the cup and drank from it again.

"Why did he hate me?" Harry asked intrusively, watching the Impostor carefully. 

The man looked at Harry coldly. 

"Do I look like your professor?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, you do." 

The Impostor sighed in annoyance. 

"I thought it would be obvious as to why he appeared to hate you," the Impostor said. "There was still a chance that the Dark Lord would rise again, he needed to keep appearance. There is also the fact that you represented everything he hated to remember: the child of his school nemesis and former best friend, of what he had lost, of the person he had loved, of the person who made his school life a misery, as well as how the public fabricated the tale of your survival, claim to know you and regard you as something special; when you are clearly not. He never specifically hated you."

"Why do you hate me then?" Harry then asked, not knowing what to make with the news light. 

The Impostor glared at Harry. 

"Hate is such a strong word, Mr Potter," the Impostor said scornfully, "The fact that you are being an impudent, insolent little brat towards me helps little of my treatment towards you. I would think I have the right to be honest with how I feel about you unlike others who'd rather be pretentious around the Boy Who Lived Again." 

"Don't call me that! I hate that name," Harry snapped. 

"You might as well get use to it because there are many who regard you as a hero, rather than a person. I'd rather not think you of anything at all," the Impostor said nonchalantly, "Word of advice; take that fame of yours to your advantage. You may receive some benefits from them." 

"I don't want to use people!" Harry snarled. 

"Harry..." Hermione began, causious. 

Harry stood up, giving the Impostor a dirty look. 

"I've had enough. I'm getting out of here," Harry declared. 

He then turned and walked away before he punched the day lights out of the Impostor. 

He heard Hermione and Ron follow after him, trying to catch up. 

"Harry! Wait!" Hermione called. 

"That guy, that Impostor, is a git. A bastard--." 

Ron countered, "So was Snape--." 

"Don't talk about Snape like that!" Harry shouted at Ron, "Stop fucking comparing them. They're not the same person. He's not Snape. He practically admitted it! So he must be an Impostor!" 

"Harry, Simon Snape can't be an Impostor but it's obvious he's a Snape. He told us that he was family of Professor Snape. I can read magical signatures and although his looks similar it wasn't exactly the same as Professor Snape's in many ways-- his magic is almost like a Squib's. And it's not unusual for other family members to have the same first name and surname either." 

"I don't care, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed at Hermione and her stupid facts of reason, "You expect me to sit there and believe his rubbish? Let him insult me and--." 

"You weren't exactly being friendly either mate," Ron said, standing in front of Hermione between her and Harry, "He treated me and Hermione alright. He doesn't seem harmful. Just some ordinary Muggle who knows about our world. He seemed to know Snape enough to know about Snape not liking you. He seemed honest. I'm with Hermione. I don't think he's an Impostor. I think he's probably Snape's only living family." 

Harry gaped. He looked back and forth between his two friends. Harry was right before when he felt it. This was betrayal. They were taking an Impostor's side over his own and he is their friend and been though heaps of things together that other people never have. 

"You guys can apparate home." 

Harry turned his back on them and continued his way to his car. 

"Harry, be reasonable." 

"Hermione, let him be. He'll come around."


	4. Chapter 4

Harry regretted snapping at Hermione and Ron after a few days later but he wasn't going to speak to them because they seemed quite sure that 'Doctor Snape' is family and didn't find anything suspicious and left it at that. This whole Snape-Impostor situation wasn't making any sense to Harry. He wasn't sure why he was so unwilling to believe that this 'Doctor Snape' is not a Snape at all. Harry wished the bastard just tell him everything. And then there was the fact about Burbage being the Impostor's wife.

At first, Harry was disappointed that 'this Snape' didn't turn out to be Professor Snape but there was something suspicious about this Impostor. The other reason why Harry wanted answers was that he had initially thought the Impostor was pretending to be Snape but it was obvious he wasn't doing that either... he was just using Snape's last name and pretending that he's family. The mere thought of someone having the nerve to do that and it seemed only Harry could see this made Harry angry and peeved off. He still couldn't believe that with the familiar face of Snape staring back at him with that damn sarcasm and distaste he has, it was still quite difficult to not snap back and hate the Impostor for existing.

But Harry really did want to believe that this Impostor is family of Snape's because it was hurting his head just thinking about it these past few weeks and he wanted to speak to Hermione and Ron again. But the Impostor was hiding something, Harry was certain. Why would Professor Snape in the painting say he wouldn't know a man who would look like him if he did have a brother? How did the Impostor know so much about Snape and his animosity towards Harry? Harry wanted answers and he wouldn't rest until he gets them. Nobody pretends to be Snape or a Snape on Harry's watch!

So Harry decided to look through Snape's stuff again. When Harry packed Snape's things he wasn't exactly paying attention to the things but more on making sure he didn't damage anything. Last week when Harry was looking for evidence, he was looking more for possessions rather than books. So this time, he was going to look for a diary or a photo album.

While he looked through Snape's stuff, Harry would pause and read Snape's scrawled handwriting on the margin of the text book. He still couldn't believe that Snape was the Half Blood Prince. He wondered why Snape wasn't more like that when he taught Potions since it would have made classes much more enjoyable and interesting.

And then he found it. In fact, he found only two photo albums so far. He opened one and had to blink as he found himself looking at snapshots of rich and beautiful landscapes and variation of flowers and many animals, especially the doe. Harry frowned. Snape was a photographer? Harry closed it and opened the next one. He felt triumphant when he found what he was looking for; pictures of people.

The first few were pretty old, showing Snape's dad and mum, both before marriage and after. And then there were ones where Snape was a kid. He looked awkward and uncomfortable but kind of... adorable? when he was young. And then the age gap between photos showed clearly before his eyes fell on the first picture of when Snape was eleven with a red haired girl beside him looking much livelier than Snape who was gaunt and sickly thin. Harry read the inscription and found it hard to swallow. It was the first picture with Lily Evans. He continued to flip though, watching Snape's shy smiles and noticing that these photos moved unlike the previous ones.

Harry was looking at a picture of Snape and Lily at what looked to be at Slughorn's Slug Club parties in fifth year and he thought he was going to see another picture of them in fifth year when he turned the page but instead he was staring down at Snape's graduation photo. He was looking back at Harry, his face blank and his posture dignified. This Snape looked significantly different to the previous pictures of him but a much more... vulnerable one to the Snape Harry eventually knew of.

There was then a picture of Snape, a few years older than Hogwarts Graduate Snape, with a much older man in a lab coat presenting Snape with an official scroll in a laboratory. It was the day Snape received his Mastery in Potion Making from his Potions Master. It was after this picture that Harry found what he was looking for.

The picture was of a wedding. It moved and was shot in black and white. Peering at the bride and the groom, he realised he was looking at 'Doctor Snape' and 'Doctor Burbage' who were both unable to take their eyes off of each other, looking very much in love with each other and not afraid to show it. Beside the Impostor was Professor Snape himself who looked uncomfortable and beside Burbage on the other side was... Minerva McGonagall with that small smile of hers. Green eyes quickly darting to the inscription, in Snape's spiky handwriting he had simply written, 'the new sister-in-law'. Harry tried to look for more pictures of the Impostor but the other one was of them at what looked like the wedding reception after the wedding.

Harry fumed, wondering if he was giving this case too much thought. With the lack of childhood photos of 'Doctor Snape', maybe the Impostor really is Snape's brother... _not_.

Harry's suspicions ran high once again. This man was hiding something and Harry wanted to know what. So he broke into the man's house with a simple incantation and swish at the door handle. The man lived near the edge of the Forest of Dean so Harry simply apparated there.

Harry was on alert in case the Impostor was expecting him. He was entering unknown territory after all. His heart was beating rapidly and his hands were beginning to sweat. It didn't help the fact that it was dark outside and the house barely had any lights on. With a flick and a murmur, the tip of his wand lit up and Harry was met with a sight of a house that has a tasteful interior design. But that wasn't all Harry noted.

He was standing in a long narrow corridor which ended on the other side of the house to a room that had its door open. It was hard to not notice the long line of framed photographs on the wall. He saw it progressed from life when the Impostor was beside himself, followed by receiving various of degrees and then the appearance of a woman who Harry recognised as Charity Burbage and then Harry saw the same wedding photograph he had seen in Snape's photo album. The photos continued down the hall and Harry moved along quietly and soundlessly, his eyes taking them all in. Burbage's published text book on what seemed to be Social Psychology. Burbage receiving an honorary award... And then there were children, two identical twins with one boy and one girl. They looked to belong to a Snape and Burbage. And the children were growing up the more Harry moved further down the hall.

Harry took note that some pictures they looked tired, some were embarrassed, some were silly, some were official such as school photos and charity events but most of them were happy photos.

"Stop where you... _are_."

Harry jumped in fright at the sudden cold and affronted tone and turned quickly, pointing his wand at the voice. It was the Impostor. He was in the room at the end of the corridor, standing at the doorway. He looked angry as well as shock, recognition while eyeing Harry's wand cautiously.

"What are you doing in my house?" the man asked indignantly. "What right do you have to be here in my house, trespassing on private property?" When Harry didn't answer immediately, the man snarled, " _Answer_ _me_."

But Harry didn't answer. He stared at the man hard. Harry wanted to yell at the man, ask what right he had for using Snape's name! But Harry was frightened. Frightened that the man had a trick up his sleeve. Harry wasn't expecting the man to be at home. Hell, Harry wasn't sure what he was thinking, barging into the man's house without planning. The man seemed to shrink a little at the fury in Harry's green eyes.

"P-put that... _thing_ down before you poke someone's eye out!"

Harry didn't do as he was told. Harry raised his wand higher and took a few steps closer. What if this near Squib attacked him? It was possible for people in the United Kingdom to still be in possession of firearms. Harry remembered that time when Uncle Vernon purchased a rifle from somewhere with the serial number chiselled off.

The man didn't move. Harry saw he was careful not to move an inch, rooted to the floor, what with the wand still pointed at him. The impostor glanced at the long line of photos Harry had been looking. He looked from the front of corridor to the abruptly ended line of photos that. Harry noticed he was careful not to move too much, Harry followed his gaze on the last photo. There was only the man and the two children. Burbage was missing. It looked recent and they looked depressed, dressed as though they were going to a funeral.

"Like what you see?" asked a quietened voice.

Harry readjusted his hold on his wand, his hand felt sweaty and he felt somewhat nervous now. He snapped his attention back at the man and demanded once more, "Who are you?"

"I haven't been lying to you, Mr Potter, when I say I'm Sna---."

" _Don't lie to me_!" Harry shouted, causing a nearby vase to smash itself. The man visibly flinched, which was interesting to note. "How dare you stand there and claim that you're Snape!"

"I-I never, never said I was Severus Snape! Merely the fact that we share the same surname!" the man said in defence quickly, his voice shook slightly but he still stood where he stood, still tall and strong.

The man seemed so adamant that he is a Snape? Fine, Harry decided to use another tactic.

"Fine. I believe you," Harry snapped, lying for the moment until he got the truth out of the creep. "So what's your relationship with my professor?"

"Family," the man mumbled.

"I know that. But what relationship did you have with Snape?"

The man was quiet for a moment.

"He was my... brother."

Harry narrowed his eyes. Why so hesitant?

"With almost the same name?" Harry questioned.

"Yes."

"And both of you look exactly the same?" Harry stressed.

"Yes," the man said tersely.

"Yes _sir_ ," Harry corrected, seeing what reaction that got from the Impostor.

The man spurted, staring at Harry that clear said 'you manner-less rogue hellion' before he threw away pretending to be nice and reasonable, man upped and looked royalty pissed off.

"Why the hell are you punishing me?" the man demanded at the injustice. "What have I done wrong?"

That's not what Harry wanted. The man wasn't afraid of Harry, a kid-- _no_ , young adult, who was a few inches shorter than the man. The man didn't seem to see Harry as dangerous, but simply needed to be shown some reason. But Harry wanted _answers_! Asking didn't help. Demanding didn't help. Acting like Snape would didn't work. How else could Harry force some answers without sending a stinging hex?

"Because none of this makes any sense to me and you're lying. And the fact that you exist."

The man's eyes hardened at the last part of Harry's words. But the man scoffed at the childlike response.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, _Lord_ Potter. So _sorry_ that you find it _uncanny_ and _uncomfortable_ that I exist looking like your _precious_ professor, _reminding_ you, _haunting_ you, even though it's not my fault that I was born this way. So _sorry_ that my world doesn't revolve around yours as your _dear_ Professor Snape's hadn't fully revolved around your _mother's_."

The man mocked Harry's mother and Snape in that infuriating _tone_. It touched a nerve in Harry. Harry advanced on the man at once with his wand held high. The man, surprised and frightened for a split second, stumbled to the side, his back slamming against the door. Harry was now confident that the man didn't have a weapon, now knowing he really does have the upper hand in the situation.

It wasn't until Harry had his wand jabbing against the man's ribs that Harry was horrified at himself, at what he allowed his anger to do. He was allowing the fact that he could do magic and this Muggle couldn't simply because he wanted answers. This wasn't Harry. He doesn't...

But Harry wasn't stopping and tried to stop himself from trembling. This Impostor has the nerve to stand and claim he's all of this. Harry leaned forward so his face was near the man's face and then he growled in what he hoped was an intimidating manner.

"Snape was a strong man. How dare you stand before of me and claim you're related to him! He's ten times the man you were! Y-you coward!"

The man, for the first time, looked away from under Harry's intense gaze. A strange sound came from the back of the man's throat as though he wanted to die but then he swallowed thickly, swallowing the sound down with it. He looked ashamed as he dragged out unwillingly and with clear difficultly.

"I wasn't born... naturally."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. That wasn't the answer he was hoping he hear. Far from it. He thought he'd be hearing that the man was an Impostor as Harry had suspected or has been using Snape's name for his own benefit... or something! But not... what does that even _mean_?

"What do you mean? How else are people born?" Harry asked abruptly, sceptical and uncertain.

The man looked up, his eyes showed bitterness as he hissed, "Let me rephrase: I was created artificially. I was a mistake."

In other words, unorthodox methods. Harry didn't know the biology behind it but he knew what that meant.

"Why?"

The man looked at Harry like he was stupid. In fact, the man looked upset, furious that Harry continued to question his existence.

" _I was made by mistake, Potter_!" he roared, his voice strained and his face twisted. "There's no _why_ to mistakes like me. What part of that _didn't_ you understand?"

"You're an awful liar," Harry said at once, not believing a word this man was saying.

The man looked like he had been slapped.

"And you're an insensitive little _bastard_ ," the man snarled viciously, hurt and dismay in his tone. "I have been nothing but honest with you, and straight to the point, in hopes that you'd just... go _away_. And now you have the nerve to break into my house like you're the king of the world, threaten me with your _wonderful_ magic, demanding answers you don't deserve to know? Answers that you're not prepared to _understand_? Calling me a fucking _liar_? Well, _screw you, Potter_!"

The man turned on his heel, not caring that the wand was still pointed at him anymore, and marched back into his dim room, the only source of light came from the hallway and the desk lamp. Harry had never seen Snape's face look so angry and livid and so alive at him before.

Harry stepped into the room and looked around. There room's walls were covered by bookshelves with cramped books with only one wall free of a bookcase but was covered with newspaper clippings and a large world map with pins at different places. There were rolled up charts lying on the ground. The bin was filled with scrunched up paper. His desk held books, papers and pens and a coffee mug that was currently steaming warmth. The man himself collapsed into his chair behind the desk. Decisively, he grabbed the coffee mug which sloshed a little and drank a mouth full of the bitter smelling coffee.

Harry eventually lowered his wand. He supposed, knowing that you were made by mistake you wouldn't have wanted other people know it. He felt bad for pushing the matter, for still doubting the man, but he wasn't going to apologise. He still wanted to know what happened.

"What happened?"

"You don't deserve to know," Muggle Snape shot cuttingly. He looked at Harry but was unable to meet his eyes. He shook his head a little. "I presume you've asked your professor's painting if he knew me."

It wasn't a question but Harry answered him anyway.

"He said he didn't have any idea who we were asking about."

Muggle Snape looked away, his eyes staring determinedly on the lit-up lamp.

"Even as a painting he kept his promise," the man muttered with a snort. He nodded his head to himself a few times. "Charming."

Harry bristled but before he could remark on how Snape was ten times the man he was Muggle Snape's eyes twitched, darting back onto Harry.

"Severus was _not_ a good man, Mr Potter," Muggle Snape hissed, as though he read Harry's expression easily without magic, "He became a sarcastic, unpleasant, cold and uncaring man who doesn't give a damn about anyone except ---."

"No. He was a good man!" Harry defended forcibly, fiercely, "He risked his life to save people. He was a spy for the Order. For Dumbledore. Dumbledore trusted him!"

"He did save lives, spied for the Order at a personal risk and was trusted by Dumbledore," Muggle Snape agreed, which confused Harry for a moment until he continued. "This is what you don't know or perhaps haven't fully grasped yet: he was brought up in a low socioeconomic background, he was neglected, had a poor upbringing, was bullied among his peers either due to his appearance, his intelligence, his gear or his blood status. He grew up knowing nothing but hate. He was ignored, he was labelled a lost cause and people called him a _liar_. They abused and used him and treated him like the dirt under their shoes. Everyone saw no hope in him; everyone turned their back on him, even Saint _Lily_."

The man sneered at the title. Harry was about to refute before Simon gave him a cutting look for trying to interrupt. "He became a Death Eater, a killer, before he was a spy, Mr Potter. He was a scoundrel. He didn't give a damn about whether people lived or died. He had considered life 'overrated'. He was merely seeking power and recognition. But all those good things he had ever done afterwards, after the realisation that the Dark Lord was to target you and thus including Lily, he did all he could for the 'Light' for His Precious Lily. He didn't live for himself. He hated Muggleborns at the beginning. He hated the Dark Lord. Hated Dumbledore. Hated James Potter the most. Hated his father. To put it simply, Severus hated life. He was all for taking the coward's way out and would have killed anybody who got in his way.

"But that meddlesome old coot Dumbledore convinced him not to," the man said, his eyes slipping off of Harry and onto the mug in front of him, "to protect Lily's son and to do that would be to do what the old man told him to. Dumbledore used him just as the Dark Lord had; just simply in a different, more obscure style. Severus taught, even though he hated teaching, the arts of Potions to children, something he had no patience in doing for none of them appreciated the arts like they didn't appreciate him. He punished them with that sharp, poisonous tongue of his for everything they did wrong because he hated the time he was a child and inwardly grimaces when he sees lack of wanting to understand and clumsiness from youth.

"He risked his life for _Lily_. He lived for _Lily_. He protected you for _Lily_. He protected the school for _Lily_. Nothing he did was for himself, or Dumbledore or anyone else. He was an ordinary man who dedicated his life to someone who had turned their back on him and has long been dead. The blind fool did it all for some naive and self-righteous girl who didn't deserve his life dedication to her. So don't stand there, acting as though you know everything about that man because you bloody well don't. _I_ do.

"I _was_ him," the man continued, his tone rough and his eyes distant. Harry blinked and looked at the man as though he was lying again. "Late one night when Severus was working in the laboratory, using the extra time to work on his Potions Mastery, there was an interference of Muggle electricity and the large Muggle repelling charm on the building. Thus I, another Severus Snape was... accidentally made, only less... magical and much more... Slytherin I suppose. I felt everything for the past nineteen years of his life all at once; I was completely... utterly... shamefully... out of control that night."

He cringed, seeming to be remembering that night.

"The two of us plunged into an argument that seemed to go nowhere but in the end he declared that he was to stay in the Wizarding world and finish his study; which meant I was to go to the Muggle world as though the only place I somewhat called home was no longer mine," he recounted bitterly, resentful. "The accident wasn't my fault to begin with and yet Severus acted as though I did something wrong. I hadn't asked to exist, it just happened. He helped me very little. In fact, he didn't help me at all. He pretended as he could try that I didn't exist, that I wasn't real and avoided me, blaming me for mistakes he made, ordering me to stay out of his way. I had nowhere else to go. _I_ was Severus Snape as well. _I_ was working on my Potions Mastery. But no. I'm an abnormally. I don't deserve to live. He had no shred of compassion, no consideration for me, no _anything_. He wanted me dead but couldn't bring himself to finally be able to kill... well, himself. The mere sight of me in our home caused him to become quite violent, violent to the point that he would b ---."

He abruptly stopped, wincing. He gave a small, shaky, embarrassed and nervous chuckle before continuing cautiously, "So I left him and the wizarding world, finally giving up hope that my life would return to what it had been, and looked for help. I tried living by myself, with my own resources but I couldn't do it so I went to the Transition Centre. That's where I met Charity Burbage and ever since then, I had moved on, I changed, I forgotten about Lily and cleared out the skeletons that remained with me from my old life. I became a new person. I saw the world in clarity. Charity and I, we shared a strong emotional bond that I don't think I had ever had with Lily. It was then I knew I loved her but I didn't know if she liked me the same way."

Harry stayed silent. He was kind of glad that this Snape didn't pin after his dead mum. But to Harry's horror, the man didn't stop there.

"A few years later, I finished my degrees while working as a research assistant, had a mortgage on a house, bought a car, paid off the house after years of eating small and keeping things simple, and then, one night, I proposed to her and I admit it came out in a sudden burst and was quite embarrassing. I looked like an idiot and bought a bouquet of flowers, and a box of chocolates as well as the engagement ring but Charity loved it. I thought she didn't feel the same when she said she needed to think about it but then she laughed and said 'I do'. Soon we married and she moved in and then our two beautiful children were born, we raised them and then they went off to a Beauxbatons and I found a science lecturer position at Exeter and Charity became the new Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts..."

He frowned. He shook his head a little. A tight smile formed. "And now Severus is dead. He didn't need to. He was a good _war hero_ but he wasn't a good _man_. _That's_ the difference I am outlining here. He could have been a good man, a good person, he could have been liked but as a 'grown up' he treated everyone like everyone had done to him. But God bless him and his selfless, horrible, insensitive and dour demeanour. He became the powerful wizard he had once dreamed to be. He should be honoured for his bravery and loyalty as I have been. Sometimes I wonder if things had turned out differently..."

The man stopped talking all together. He seemed to have realised who he was talking to and what he was talking about with the way his eyes widened in shock, mortification. He then proceeded to pretended he didn't care about how Harry would react or what he thought of him, and, calmly as he could, he took up the mug once more and took another large mouthful.

Harry on the other hand was shocked at the rant that seemed to have come from nowhere. Harry sunk down onto the closest chair numbly. As the words sunk in, Harry could see it clearly. Snape really was a horrible git and did everything, all of it, for his mother; the woman he loved but never got to be with. Harry felt as though his mind was beginning to clear up. Whatever Doctor Snape said about Snape not being a hero, in Harry's mind, Snape was a brave and loyal hero, but also Harry now realised he didn't have to like him, only appreciate what he had done and being a hero didn't excuse the fact that he had treated Harry horribly.

"Catching flies, Mr Potter?"

Harry shook his head and snapped his mouth shut again. He didn't know what to say. Reason and sense suddenly washed over Harry and he couldn't help feeling guilty for forcing the man to reveal something that was obviously humiliating and something nobody would want to share if they had a shred of dignity. That was why Snape claimed he knew nothing of Simon. That's how Simon knew so much about Snape. Ron was right: Simon Snape was Severus Snape's clone.

" _Don't_."

Harry looked up at Simon, startled. Simon looked wounded, his eyes screwed up.

"I'm not a clone," Simon stated firmly, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm more than that."

Harry didn't know what to say. It was obvious that Simon wasn't a clone, not anymore at least. That was why the man was so different to Snape. This man was more sincere, honest, compassionate more human than Snape could ever be. But Harry wasn't sure how he could express it though Simon seemed to suspect what Harry was now thinking because he relaxed a little and gave a small nod.

"You are more than that," Harry spoke out loud in agreement, hoping Simon understood that he was sorry for prying, for jumping to the assumption that Simon, being a clone, should have been exactly the same as Snape.

And Simon didn't offer forgiveness because Harry never offered a proper sorry. Harry expected that much. He wasn't expecting the man to forgive him for forcing out things he didn't want to speak of again. But there was understanding and that was all they both needed.

He watched as the Snape in front of him took another drink from his mug, his eyes looking at Harry over its rim. Harry felt uncomfortable again and looked down at the man's desk. There was a picture there. A picture of Simon Snape, his wife and their two children. It was then he realised the newspaper clippings were about; they were all about Charity, when she won an award, when she published a book, when they raised money for Save the Children and other charity events, when Charity went missing...

"You're wife's dead, Doctor Snape." Harry said and regretted it as soon as it came out of his mouth.

Harry heard the mug being set down on the wooden desk. There was a tense silence but Harry didn't dare look up to see what the man's reaction was.

"I know," the man said softly.

Harry looked up and saw that the man had stiffened, his eyes becoming glassy and he was fiddling with the ring on his finger but didn't take it off. Harry had expected anger for having rummaged through the man's private life but then, it seemed, the man truly loved his wife and missed her.

"You do?" Harry asked doubtfully because even Harry didn't know.

"She was..." he took a sharp intake of breathe, "tortured before she was... I confronted Severus at Hogwarts, who was Headmaster at the time, when I hadn't heard a word from her for months. God, he didn't even come and inform me. He told me how she was kil --."

He made a strange choking noise and closed his eyes. A tear ran down from the corners of his eyes.

And then, almost inaudible he mumbled, "I buried an empty casket."

Harry didn't know what to say. He was never good at comforting people (people he didn't know really well) when they cried. Thankfully, Simon pulled himself together and wiped the tears away.

"There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of her," Simon said quietly.

"I'm... sorry for your loss."

"It's not your fault."

"It was."

Simon looked at Harry, unable to understand what he meant.

"All of it," Harry continued, feeling guilty, "Everything. Everyone who died. Snape probably blames me for everything with how he hated me."

Simon rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Mr Potter."

Harry kept his gaze adverted.

"Look at me."

Harry looked up at those familiar words, strangely unable to not.

"I can't believe I'm going to do this after what you've done..." Simon muttered to himself before he said to Harry, "Hadn't I told you that Snape didn't hate you for you, but what you represented?"

Harry nodded slowly, not knowing where this line of questioning was going.

"You didn't _choose_ to be the Chosen One, Mr Potter," Simon said firmly, "Certainly, you were somewhat involved but had become so from forces outside of your own control. You did not ask for this. You did not seek this. So the blame cannot rightfully be yours. It was not your fault."

Harry stared at Simon, perplexed. Not his fault...? Snape didn't blame him...? As though from some miracle, the weight he didn't know he had been carrying on his shoulders was finally lifted and a feeling that simply wanted to burst out from inside him threatened to over spill.

"C-can I use your bathroom?"

" _May_ I," Simon corrected Harry waspishly, before tilting his head a little. "Halfway down the hallway, door to the left."

Rushing out quickly, he headed to the bathroom where he closed the door, locked it and sat down on the lid of the toilet. A sob escaped his lips.

When he came back out a moment later with his face washed up and cleaned, Simon was still in his office, typing away on the computer. He acted as though Harry hadn't just barged into his house and threatened him. It was as though Simon knew Harry didn't have it in him to kill someone over speculation, merely a confused person after battling in a war and carrying self blame. Was Simon really that understanding and considerate? Was Simon really this calm and cooperative? Harry simply felt it strange that this man who looked like Snape wasn't anything like Snape at all.

Simon didn't look up when Harry awkwardly stood around before deciding to sit down.

"Your kids?" Harry asked, nodding to the picture.

Simon stopped. He turned his sad, apprehensive eyes towards Harry and looked him over. Harry, feeling self conscious, patted his hair down.

"Yes," Simon said, sounding proud. He turned to look at the picture, his lips twitching but unable to form a full smile, "Twins. Benedict Severus and Lily Charity Snape-Burbage. Both turning seventeen soon. They're currently attending Beauxbatons. Benedict just became the Captain of his house Quidditch team and Lily was elected as female Head Girl."

Harry's heart twinged as he watched Simon watch the moving picture of his family with pride and sadness. Harry wished he had a parent like Simon, who clearly loved and cared for his children, alive and around to be proud of him. But Harry knew his own parents are proud of him. He smiled sadly as well, remembering that night.

"Do you like teaching?" Harry asked curiously.

Simon relaxed and smirked, looking at Harry knowingly. "Yes. Very much so. Whether its adults, school leavers or my own spoilt children. I find it interesting, how our minds processes information. If Charity was still here she would have given you a few theories as to how and why."

Harry looked over at Simon Snape in a new light now. He may look like Snape and may have the same dry sarcasm but he is a different man. He had been strong enough to let go what he had lost, strong enough to show emotion, strong enough to have moved on, to do something with his life rather than let others to tell him what to do. This man isn't an Impostor at all. He is his own person regardless of how he was created. This man is the most human person Harry has ever met. Snape may be the bravest and most complex person Harry has ever known but this man, Simon Snape, has the strongest character. And nobody was going to tell him any different, not even Simon.

Simon's eyes narrowed as though he read Harry's thoughts once again. " _No_ , Mr Potter. I'm _not_. I _would_ offer you a drink if you hadn't have _broken into my home_. You wizards are _undomesticated_! Now get the hell out of my house before I fire call the Aurors. I don't ever want to see you again, Mr Potter. I mean it. _Leave_."

Simon pointed towards the doorway and stared coldly, unwavering and unwelcoming at the disruptive, intrusive, misled and brash intruder until the front door closed behind him and he apparated away.


	5. Epilogue

Harry did apologise to Hermione and Ron, he stayed away from Simon Snape as he respected the man's demand, and a few years later Harry did eventually marry Ginny. They had three children; their eldest they called James Sirius, a mischievous and playful child, their youngest was named Lily Luna, the ever compassionate with her mother's fiery temper when messed with, and their middle child, who will be starting at Hogwarts this year, was named Gideon Harry after Gideon Prewett, one of Ginny's twin uncles who both fought and died in the First Wizarding World. Gideon Harry was the quieter and more responsible one of the Potter children. Sometimes, he reminded Harry of when he was young.

The Potter family met up with Hermione and Ron who had Hugo and Rose in tow. James seemed to have disappeared as soon as he could. Hugo and Lily huddled together, conversing about what they would expect from Hogwarts when they finally will be able to go. They saw Draco and his wife with their son, Scorpius, who would also be attending this year among many others.

As Harry watched his two eldest sons, James and Gideon, on the Hogwarts Express depart from the station, he held onto Lily's hand and had an arm around his wife, Harry couldn't be more proud of his children and grateful for having a wonderful and understanding family. Although his legendary lightning bolt shaped scar was still visible on his forehead with no signs or ever disappearing, it hasn't hurt him at all for the past nineteen years. 

All was well.


End file.
